Page 74 of Just the Tipsy
“Assuming you aren’t indecisive as hell, then yeah.” Natasha gives Rose a pointed look.
“It came out great, though,” Rose says, untying the scarf around her braids. They look really good — neat and tight but not so tight that they’ll tear her edges to pieces.
“Okay, true.” Natasha suppresses a smile and starts unzipping a silver makeup bag. “I have a bunch of makeup that’s good for cosplay nerd shit but not doing normal person stuff.”
“Don’t worry, I just have the basics plus about ten thousand shades of lipstick,” Rose says. “Not super helpful.”
“Same. And some shadows I bought and never used,” Jo says.
“Holy shit,” Sabrina says when I open my bag. “It’s like a Sephora in a bag.”
“Yeah. I got a crazy amount of free stuff. In lots of shades too.” I start pulling palettes I haven’t even taken out of the box yet and stack them next to me. “There’s something that could work for all of us.”
“I know being even vaguely famous probably sucks ass, but I’d love random places to send me a bunch of free shit.” Sabrina picks up a palette and examines it.
“It is pretty nice,” I admit.
“Too bad I do eyeshadow like a toddler.” Sabrina puts the palette down.
“I can help. It’ll be kind of basic but we can use some interesting colors.” I haven’t done this kind of thing with girl friends in ages so I forgot the etiquette. I once offered to help this other model I’d barely met and she acted like I’d asked to help her cross the street.
“That would be amazing.” Sabrina plops down in the seat at the vanity and I pull a chair over.
“Can you do me next?” Jo asks. “I always end up making it all look a bit muddy.”
“Sure, yeah. No guarantees it’ll look professional.”
“Still, it’s def a step up for me.” Jo sits down on the bed, stretching her legs.
Getting ready with everyone is sonice— no edge of competition between us, no petty little swipes that could be brushed off with some mental gymnastics. Just music, drinks, and hanging out. Like I fit in even though they’ve known each other a lot longer than they’ve known me.
As we get dressed, Dennis meanders into the room, weaving between our ankles and meowing.
“What, little buddy?” Rose asks. Dennis meows again. “We already fed you. You can’t have human snacks.”
Hearing ‘human snacks’ Murphy pops his head up from his spot on the bed, his tail thumping against the comforter.
“No human snacks for you either,” Rose says. “Waylon said you were getting a little chunky at your last visit. Both of you.”
Dennis chirps and leaves the room again, tail high. Murphy still looks like he’s waiting for treats.
“Speaking of Waylon, how are things with you guys?” Jada asks. “Is he behaving himself?”
I snort, thinking back to the other night when he pinned me down and fucked me like his life depended on it. The vanity where I’m sitting has the best light, but the marks he left are long gone. I wish they’d lingered a little longer.
“Pretty much,” I finally say, packing a little bit of glittery shadow onto my eyelid.
“So I’m guessing he’s behaving in all the right ways, and misbehaving in all the ways I’d rather not think about because Waylon is basically my bonus brother?” Jada says. I nod. “Well, that’s good. I was worried he’d stayed all weird and distant. Or at least that’s the impression he gave off.”
“I don’t think that’s changed all that much.” I tap the side of my brush against the edge of the container.
Something between us feels closer, more intimate. But I can feel him holding back. If you asked me for something specific, I couldn’t give an answer, but I can sense it somewhere in my heart.
“Damn it.” Jada sighs.
“Wait, what’s the problem?” Rose asks.
“Waylon’s being…” Jada makes a vague gesture, nearly hitting a lamp on the side table next to the bed, and doesn’t finish her sentence.
